


Chasing North

by icanhearyouglaring



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Magic, Grief/Mourning, Moral Dilemmas, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-14 19:04:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11789493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icanhearyouglaring/pseuds/icanhearyouglaring
Summary: After falling into Tigress like a crash pad in the wake of Wally's ceasing, Artemis is ready to take matters into her own hands and get some real answers, and the lengths she will go to get them will surprise even her. (wally/artemis, post-s2)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a very long fic. I have the next few chapters done, so I might be able to get this on a proper update schedule if enough people show interest by leaving comments/feedback. Thank you for reading and please subscribe so you do not miss updates!

**Watchtower**

**November 10** **th** **, 2016**

**22:23 UTC**

_ Swish, swish, tap-tap, swish.  _

Tigress hits another button on the chair she’s spinning in, bringing up an additional holographic screen to her right. Monitor duty isn’t her style. It’s boring, monotonous, and oh-so-suffocating. It also gives her too much time to think; something she’s been trying to avoid. She’s already talked to her mother twice today, trying to pass the time. Paula’s words had blended together in Artemis’s mind as she went on about Lian and their trip to the zoo and the monkeys and the snakes and the tigers. Artemis doesn’t feel guilty for forgetting the details; all she’d needed at the time was to hear her mother’s voice (and all her mother needed to hear were her short, murmured comments). Artemis has been too focused on getting through the day to say much more than the occasional “ _ Cute” _ . 

That’s life now: wake up, get through the day, go back to bed, repeat. That’s how she survives. Sleep is a bittersweet game. She would love to stay asleep and be free from the weight of continuity and the straining guilt that comes with it, but she wakes to an inescapable nightmare, hiding beneath the mask of someone she should have buried when she had the chance. It wasn’t as though the decision was easy. Leaving ‘Artemis’ behind wasn’t as simple as jumping ship; it was more like loading herself into the biggest cannon on the slowly sinking S.S. Sanity, and launching her consciousness into the void that was the world without Wally West. Tigress was something tangible she could latch onto and use to save herself.

She moves the screens around her, pulling up a case file she knows she shouldn’t. No one will say a word to her about it though. Not today.

No one has mentioned the date to her. She receives no phone calls from her friends, even though she’d expected at least one. M’gann and Conner are on a diplomatic trip to Mars after their successful mission with B’arzz O’oomm. Kaldur is with Queen Mera of Atlantis, polishing his skills after a flood in Taipei. Zatanna and Raquel are searching for some mystic relic in the Amazon. And Dick- at this point, Artemis has stopped calling him. It’s not like he ever answers and she’s left enough messages. From what she can gather through word of mouth, he still visits Blüdhaven, but knowing Dick, it’s probably just to restock his belt and make sure his landlady doesn’t get curious about his absence. Whatever. They’re all busy, right? They’ll call  _ tomorrow _ . They’ll worry  _ tomorrow _ .

The screen in front of her flickers and she takes a deep breath.

_ ‘Kid Flash B-03 (Wallace R. West) Status: Deceased’ _

She clicks on the title and waits for the pages upon pages to load. They aren’t any different than the last time she read them. The words are branded into her mind.  _ Kid Flash acted as a lightning rod for the energy of the Magnetic Field Disruptor _ .  _ Blue Beetle’s Scarab has determined Kid Flash has ‘ceased’.  _ There are better things she could be doing with her time tonight.  _ When asked, the Scarab could not elaborate on the situation.  _ Surely, there are crimes to be stopped. _ Ceasing appears to be as permanent as death, according to the Scarab.  _ God, she hates monitor duty.  _ Investigation: Closed. _

Tigress starts clicking around the screen. Pictures upon pictures start popping up. Most of them are from their early days: official team photos, birthdays, beach trips, League events, holidays. She doesn’t get far before she reaches the pictures from Wally’s eighteenth birthday party, and then she closes the tab.  _ Dammit, M’gann.  _ The chair swivels again as she turns away from the screens and stares out into literal space.

There are two graves down on Earth that remind her of everything she has lost. One is hers; the other is Wally’s. They’re both empty. She remembers the Wests asking for his body, asking for their son, so they could hold him in their arms and grieve right, and she remembers having no answer ( _ gone, gone, he’s gone _ ) and wishing for the same. It makes everything so much harder. Wally deserved  _ so much better. _ It should feel final,  _ be _ final, but it doesn’t. She doesn’t visit the grave because there’s  _ nothing _ there but a name that shouldn’t be there at all.

She wonders for the millionth time what it must have felt like, and then stops herself. It doesn’t matter, does it? It doesn’t change a damn thing. That’s what Kaldur said, in less harsh words. Kaldur also told her she needed to move on, but that’s one piece of advice she’ll happily ignore. She needs to move forward, not on. Moving on means leaving things in the past. That works for some people. Moving forward means living, keeping those things in a mental backpack for safekeeping, and having hope. That’s allowed, right? It’s what she needs: hope. For the future, for Wally, and most importantly, for herself. She’ll hold onto that for as long as she can.

Tigress spins around in her seat when the call line activates.

“Tigress, Batgirl. You there?”

Moments like these are when she appreciates Tigress the most. Tigress is a professional; always has been, always will be. She holds down a button on the chair and clears the  _ Artemis _ from her voice. “Tigress here. Go ahead, Batgirl.”

“We’ve lost our visual on the tanks, but Bumblebee successfully added the nanites to the main supply. We’re about to activate the tracers and neutralize the formula.”

“Congratulations, Beta Squad,” Tigress hums appreciatively, opening a new screen to follow the action. “I’m ready for you.”

As Batgirl begins to count down from five, Tigress uses the League’s satellite to get a visual of Beta. Batgirl, Bumblebee, and Guardian’s heat signatures are clearly visible within the old barn she helped them find earlier.

“Activation complete,” Batgirl whispers.

“I’m getting it all now,” Tigress confirms. The information from the nanites filters through the screens, revealing the incriminating ingredients that’ll put Luthor at the bottom of next week’s popularity poll. After months of digging through the slippery politician’s records and literal trash, their suspicions are confirmed. The nanites neutralize the Reach-tech and give Tigress a chance to lock onto the delivery truck’s location. “Perfect. It’s all here. You’re clear to initiate Phase Two.”

“Thanks, Tigress. Beta out.”

The line shuts down and the soft-drink plant’s power goes out. After moving Beta’s screen aside, Artemis reopens Wally’s case file. She closes the pictures and searches through the mission files with feigned calm. Beta has a fifty-minute drive to the nearest Zeta tube, and she’s going to take full advantage of the near-empty Watchtower.

_ ‘Kid Flash B-03 (Wallace R. West) Status: Deceased’ _

“Prove it,” Artemis mutters to the screen. Her fingers glide over the keys, impulsively deleting the last word and replacing it with  _ ‘Missing’ _ . She feels a little better, a little lighter, now that she’s edited the file. One changed word and the world doesn’t seem as suffocating. ‘Missing’ is a challenge.  _ Find me _ , it cries.  _ I’m out there. _

She doesn’t stop at  _ ‘missing’ _ . The next line she selects is in a mission report from four years ago.  _ Kid Flash and Artemis infiltrated the warehouse and planted a recording device in a secure area.  _ She snorts and corrects it.  _ Kid Flash and Artemis made out in the office closet they were supposed to be planting a bug in and almost got caught by KGBeast.  _

“Perfect,” she says, scrolling further through the archive. She makes changes in other reports, documenting memories she’s never shared before. By the time she reaches the end of the mission reports, her eyes are far from dry but her heart feels half as heavy as it did at the start of her shift. The newer pictures blur together as she moves past them. Most of them were taken and uploaded by M’gann. She’s seen them a million times, at least. When she happens upon an untitled video file, she stops, checks the time, and presses play.

It’s hard to watch. The heaviness returns as the scene comes to life. Raquel is taping the rest of the team out on the beach. Dick keeps dragging people out of the water, itching to get a volleyball game started. As M’gann finishes her intricate sandcastle, Wolf runs down the length of the beach with Conner chasing after him. Jason hangs onto Donna’s wrists as she flies over the water, allowing him to ‘run’ over the waves. Even with the mask on, she can tell he’s having the time of his life. Kaldur and Garth throw water balls between each other, both waiting for the other to drop his guard. Tula catches them by surprise when she nails them with one well-placed shot. It isn’t until she hears  _ his _ voice in the background that she really regrets opening the video. An umbrella almost smacks the camera out of Raquel’s hands.

_ “You’re gonna break it!”  _ she hears herself shout, with a lightness in her voice she hasn’t heard since June.

_ “Am not!” _

_ “Are too! The latch is-” _

_ “I found it,”  _ Wally laughs, his face coming into view as Raquel takes a few steps back to capture the moment. The umbrella billows open. _ “See?” _

_ “The latch is broken,”  _ she yelps _. “Don’t let go of the-” _

Wally’s eyes go wide as the umbrella begins to close over him. The video stops there, but not because it’s over. It’s paused by the computer as a message appears at the front of the screen. 

_ ‘Red Arrow requesting video communication.’ _

_ Oh shit,  _ she swallows down the lump in her throat and Tigress returns to her post.

She accepts the call, shakily drawling, “Well, where have you been, Stranger?”

“We- I’m in Brazil,” he answers shortly, obviously distracted by something out of frame.

“What?” She sits up straighter.  “Why?”

He lowers his gaze to the camera. “To find out why Cluemaster and The Key decided to go on vacation together.”

Tigress pulls up a satellite view of his location. “Where are they?”

“On my ten, five tables away.” He tugs on his headphones, making a show of nonchalance.

Her fingers move automatically. “I’m tagging their heat signatures, but you’ll need to get bugs on them if you want steady intel.”

“Already on it.”

“How?”

He smirks. “Waitress.”

“Ah.” Tigress nods, watching her sister walk out of the building towards the two B-class villains. “So that’s why Lian’s in Gotham. Tell your waitress I say hi.”

“Will do. I’m also sending you the coordinates of the house they’re staying at. I called because we’re hitting it in a few hours, and I thought an eye in the sky would be helpful, considering The Key has some pretty interesting escape methods. Tell your relief?”

“Black Canary will be waiting for your signal.” She makes a mental note to tell Dinah about Red’s plan. “And what’s with the vid-call? You couldn’t message me?”

“Just wanted to check in, considering…”

_ Oh.  _ Her mask cracks for a moment. Artemis has no control over the mechanical shrug she gives him through the camera; Tigress does. Out of all her friends,  _ Roy _ is the first to call her, to call  _ Artemis _ , and it is completely unexpected. 

“I’m alright,” she says, carefully monitoring the movements of the waitress as she places bugs on the collars of Cluemaster and The Key (and carefully avoiding making technological eye contact with Roy). “I get relieved in two hours, then I’m going home.”

“Any plans?”

It takes her too long to answer. “Just the usual ones.”

“Alright then,” Roy mutters, clearly not buying her calm façade. “See you soon.”

“Yeah,”– she nods quickly, finger hovering over the ‘end’ button–“see ya.”

She cuts the line and leans back in her chair with a long sigh. The computer will let her know if Cluemaster or The Key say anything of interest and the screen with all of Red Arrow’s data goes into a neat folder for Dinah. All that remains on the screen in front of her is the paused video, and the rest of Wally’s case file. She moves the video to another window, rewinding it to the point where Wally first holds out the umbrella. He’s grinning proudly at the camera. Artemis swallows. _ Hey, dork.  _ She’s held it together pretty well today. Tomorrow will be worse. 

Her hands shake.  _ What am I doing? _ she thinks, slamming her clenched fist against the chair. She can’t live like this; fearing tomorrow isn’t what she does– isn’t what he’d want her to do. Day-to-day won’t cut it anymore. She needs to start thinking further than that. Artemis re-reads the MFD report over and over and over again.  _ Blue Beetle’s analysis of the Reach technology suggests total erasure.  _ Time to act.  _ Kid Flash acted as a lightning rod for the energy of the Magnetic Field Disruptor.  _ No more living in the void.  _ When asked, the Scarab could not elaborate on the situation.  _ She doesn’t accept that. It’s time to get real answers: the kind Wally deserves. 

She scrolls to the last line of the final mission report in the folder.

_ Investigation: Closed. _

“Not until I say so,” she says firmly.

_ Investigation: Ongoing. _

She wants to begin immediately. Her hands itch to dial Jaime’s number and have him Zeta straight to the Watchtower, but then she checks the time. It’ll have to wait another day. She chews at her lip and pulls off the mask only to swipe at her tired tears. Beta will be returning from their mission soon. The mission file in front of her closes, and when prompted to save all the changes she made to the reports, she clicks ‘ _ Cancel _ ’. She moves the video back to the center holo-screen without pressing play. Wally beams at her. Artemis’s wet gaze flickers from his face to the clock.

The computer chimes at midnight and  Artemis shuts her eyes.

_ Happy Birthday, Wall-man. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Gotham City, East End  
** **November 11** **th** **, 2016  
****11:42 AM EST**

The sound of her phone hitting the hardwood floor wakes Artemis up from her dreamless sleep.

She raises her forearm to keep the blind-filtered sunlight out of her eyes. The fallen phone vibrates against the floor, creating an annoying, louder buzzing noise.  _Perfect_. As she leans over to grab the device, the cold air reminds her to put in a work-order to her landlord to fix the thermostat. The phone stops buzzing the moment she pulls it up. The warmth of the duvet drags her back into her spot on the bed. Turning away from the window, she stares at the screen in her hand.

There are ten new voicemails. Just as she unlocks her phone, a warning message appears telling her to clear out her voicemail box before it fills. She grimaces. The messages Wally left for her while she was undercover are locked in the phone and she has no plans on changing that anytime soon. Most of them are short. ‘ _Hey, Babe, just wanted to ask you to do something for me:… don’t you… forget about me.. don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t…’_ Some are longer. ‘ _Babe, you’ll never guess what Brucely did today, so I’m going to explain it super fast and pretend you’re right here listening to me. Actually, when you hear this, you’ll be back, so you_ will _be with me and get to see my incredibly important and handsome facial expressions... It all started when I stubbed my toe on the couch-’_

When the quiet of the apartment becomes overwhelming (and the thoughts of forgetting his voice become equally overwhelming), the messages drag her out of bed. Those are the moments she most loathes her landlord and his hatred of pit bulls. This apartment might be temporary, but having Brucely around would certainly brighten up the dingy space, even if the dog spent the whole day chewing on her shoes. He’s probably happier in Keystone; Mary feeds him too many treats and Rudy makes sure he can always nap on the couch. At least with them around to entertain, he isn’t constantly watching the door and waiting for another redhead to come home.

The first two, new messages are from her mother (one a babbling tirade from Lian, one a concerned questioning from Paula) and the next is from a number that can’t be traced ( _Jade,_ telling her to feed Lian’s fish) _._ Mary wants to know if she’s still coming over and if she’s doing alright and if she needs anything and if she wants something specific for dessert. She calls again, fifteen minutes after the first call, telling her to bring an appetite because she bought too much food and there’s only so much space in the freezer. Zatanna demands she accompany her to Zachary’s magic show on the 26th. Karen reminds her that she’s available if she needs to talk. Kaldur instructs her to call him whenever she has the time. The newbies need some more guidance in their hand-to-hand training. Bart’s message is unintelligible. She replays it over and over again, but the words are too muffled to hear. That’s fine. She’ll see him in person later.

The last message is from Dinah’s cell phone. Artemis moves further under the covers before she presses play.  

 _“Hey, kiddo.”_ Oliver’s voice doesn’t surprise her. _“Just letting you know the_ _Kords_ _are finally ready. I made a few adjustments to the grips, but you’ve got to come by and test it out. Yours is a bit lighter than your usual bow, but man, does that thing pack a punch. I can see what you were talking about. Come over to the house Saturday and take a few shots with me and Roy. It’ll be fun. I’ll make chili. Let me know.”_

Sinking deeper into the bed, Artemis systematically deletes the messages.

 _Distractions_. Everyone seems to want to be one these days.

 She takes a deep breath as she deletes the last message. She has to stop. They’re _trying_. Everyone is trying. She needs to try, too.  

As she puts down the phone and forces herself out of bed, she mulls over the offers. She has to call Mary back soon. A few hours at the Wests will do her good, hopefully. Either that or she’ll make it to the front door and bolt back to the Zeta point. _Stop that,_ she admonishes herself as she steps over the dirty clothes on the floor. Maybe Bart will explain his hurried message when she gets there. Her feet tread across the freezing tiles in the bathroom and goosebumps spread over her skin. She has to feed Lian’s fish. She flicks the shower water on quickly. The water won’t stay warm long considering the hour and her ancient building’s heating system.

“Ugh,” she sighs roughly, peeling off her sticky clothes before tossing them into the pile by her bed. The curtain swings shut as she scoots into the shower. The mental image of her clothes strewn all over the apartment makes her cringe. _Gotta do laundry. That’s a thing._ Her nearly empty conditioner bottle gives its last drop. She tosses it outside the shower curtain. _Throw that away._ While she’s at it, she should probably take out the trash in the kitchen. Last week’s takeout isn’t smelling any better than it did when she first got it. Wally always took out the–

“Ugh!” Artemis slams her hand against the wet tiles in the shower. The hollow thud doesn’t satisfy her. She hits it again. “Stop it.”

One hundred and fifty days. It’s been that long since he ran into that zeta tube and never came back. It was supposed to be worse in the beginning. That’s what everyone had told her, but they were _liars_.

Why hadn’t anyone warned her that she’d have to go through the loss over and over again, that every little thing would serve as a stinging reminder that there was a person-sized hole in her life now? Artemis clenches her eyes shut to keep from crying (she doesn’t _want_ to cry anymore) and holds her breath as the lukewarm water washes over her face. It’s been _so long_ , but it feels like it happened just yesterday. 

“Stop,” she begs again.

It doesn’t.

 **-o-**  

 **Keystone City  
** **November 11th, 2016  
** **4:53 PM CST**

When Artemis arrives at the Wests, she doesn’t get a _chance_ to bolt. Bart answers the door and pulls her inside the moment after she knocks, throwing her into an almost empty room. Immediately, she half-regrets not leaving her uniform at home. The Tigress mask in her bag feels heavier here; it’s useless in a place where she has no desire, no _need_ , and no reason to be anyone but Artemis. Still, she’ll need it as soon as she walks out of the house.

Bart is practically buzzing as he drags her to the living room. “Did’ya get my message?”

“I could hardly understand you,” Artemis says lightly, unlooping her arm from Bart’s.

“Ah, sorry about that. I must’ve had the wrong mic on. Joan and I just installed this retro speaker system in the house and it can make phone calls from pretty much anywhere. Still working out the kinks, but you know.” He makes square motions with his hands, as if she’s supposed to understand what he means by that.

She shrugs it off as another _future_ thing. He has a knack of making her feel ancient at twenty-one.   

“So, what did you want to tell–”

“Artemis!” Iris’ face lights up even as she struggles to rise from the old, low recliner. The baby in her arms stays docile. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Oh, don’t get up for me,” Artemis says, walking over and leaning down to hug the woman. “I’m glad to see you, too. And this is?”

“Dawn,” Iris says, moving the blanket out of her daughter’s face, “the newest ruler of Allen-town.”

“Not even a month old and already running the place?” Artemis guesses, watching Dawn’s half-open eyes close slowly. The pudgy baby doesn’t do much else. _Cute._

“You have no idea,” laughs Iris. “Don’s a breeze, but this girl is a total princess. I can’t put her down for a second.”

“Same old Aunt Dawn.” Bart chuckles to himself, grinning at the baby before he bolts out of the room towards the dining room.

Artemis catches Iris’ eyes and raises a brow. “Still weird?”

Iris nods. “Still weird.”

“Where is everyone?” Artemis asks, not used to this house being so _quiet_.

“The boys are out back, taking out the dog–” Iris’ smile wavers, “and Joan’s been trying to get Mary to come back downstairs for the last half-hour.”

Artemis grips the strap of her bag as she dares a glance at the staircase. “Is she…?”

Iris shakes her head and purses her lips.

_That’s not good._

A small sigh escapes Artemis’s lips before she nods. This is why she’s here. She places her bag on the end table, makes sure her phone is off, and pats her coat pocket, feeling for the pack of tissue she packed earlier in the day. She’s gone all day without breaking, but this might be the moment. It pays to be prepared.

“I’ll go check on them,” she says, passing Iris and Dawn to reach the staircase.

As she climbs the stairs, unfamiliar frames strung up along the wall catch her attention. They definitely weren’t there the last time she visited (when she dropped off another box full of his things that she couldn’t stop obsessing over). One picture in particular gives her pause. Wally is sticking his tongue out at the camera and wearing a _ridiculously_ large hat for a seven-year-old, waving a sparkler in his hand. The weight in her chest grows heavier. _Dork._ She continues up the stairs, keeping her sight on the worn carpet. There’s a squeaky stair, one away from the top; habit keeps her from stepping on it.

The second door on the left calls out to her. She can’t help but approach it and stand in the groove of the carpet next to the door. There’s a reason running in the house is banned. Stopping isn’t kind on floors. Her fingers wrap themselves around the cool doorknob. _Open it._

“No, stop,” she whispers, pulling her hand away from the knob as though it were on fire. In an instant, all she can see is the door with the lightning bolt stickers that used to glow in the dark; all she can think of is how many times she closed it softly behind her as he snuck her in at midnight and it takes every bit of strength she has to take a deep breath before her brain gets the better of her.

She is not ready for this. The last time she was in his childhood room was last Christmas when things were so _different_ and happy and not–

“Artemis?” Mary’s curious voice cuts through the thick air, tossing Artemis’ train of thought off its track. “Are you alright?”

“I-uh…” Artemis takes a deep breath and lets go of the doorknob slowly. She hides her shaking hands in her coat pockets. The package of tissues might have to be shared at this point.

“Sweetie?”

“I don’t think so,” she admits, to Mary and herself. There has to be something sinister going on, something affecting the oxygen in the hall; it shouldn’t be this hard to breathe. “I came up here to ask you the same thing, but then I felt like… like I needed something in his room, but then I couldn’t _open_ it and I… I don’t even remember what I was looking for.”

Mary’s eyes are red rimmed and filled with an understanding Artemis hasn’t seen in weeks. She needs to come around more often.

“That’s alright,” Mary says, quietly stepping in front of the door. “Happens to me all the time.”

It’s hard to ignore the tender way Wally’s mother traces her fingers over the worn out stickers on the door.

Artemis would feel like she’s intruding, but this place is just as much a home to her as her mother’s apartment in Gotham. From the second she had stepped through the front door, she had been welcome, and never in all the years that she and Wally were together did she feel Mary or Rudy look at her with anything other than kindness. She has always belonged here. She always will. That must is clear.

“My baby–” Mary’s voice breaks to pieces just as her fingers skim the doorknob. “I can’t– can’t believe he’s really _gone_ –”

_Neither can I._

“I know,” Artemis agrees, pulling her clammy hands out of her pockets to wrap her arms around Mary. “I know.” 

The older woman returns the embrace and her strangling hold feels more like a breath of fresh air, like _purpose_ , and suddenly, Artemis can breathe again.

 _I’ll find him,_ she silently promises, closing her eyes as Mary cries against her shoulder. _I’ll find him._

Standing in the center of the stretch of worn carpet, Artemis repeats the phrase, over and over and over again, until it sounds less like a promise and more like a prayer. 

**-o-**

**Watchtower  
** **November 11** **th** **, 2016  
****23:34 UCT**

Martian Manhunter doesn’t say a word when Tigress purposefully strides out of the Zeta tube on the Watchtower. His silence is a kindness, one appreciated greatly. Most heroes are out– some at home, some on duty, some off world, and the few that are at headquarters know not to approach. At least, that’s what she hopes. She doesn’t have time to check the on-tower list. The day is almost over.

Her nerves of steel broke the second she stepped out of the West’s warm house into the windy streets of Keystone. All thoughts of returning home were instantly replaced by irresistible urges to kick and scream and break things; anything that would keep her out of her empty bed and messed up head. Her feet led her to a Zeta tube, a familiar photo booth behind an old, run-down arcade, and when given a list of destinations, she chose the one furthest from home.

The metal doors slide open with a click that echoes down the empty hall. After a moment of hesitation, Artemis takes off her mask and clips it to side of her belt. The first steps are always the hardest (because turning around would be _so easy_ and moving forward is much harder) _,_ but once the trees surround her and the recycled air turns warmer, she feels more at ease. The door closes behind her. She takes a worn-down path to the edge of the garden, her eyes following the recent footprints on the ground until the edge of a metal pedestal comes into view.

For the millionth time, she wishes it were a bad dream, a mystic nightmare, a coma terror, another simulation gone horribly wrong– but when she looks up, and a cheap image of her best friend flickers before her, she remembers just how real it all is.

“Hey,” she says, voice quivering. The hologram doesn’t respond and her shoulders shake. She takes a seat, grounding herself with trembling fingers threading through the damp grass. There’s little she can do to stop the oncoming storm.

“I saw your family today.” The blades of grass between her fingers snap, so she snatches a new patch and repeats the process.

 _I saw your family today,_ she repeats mentally, when her voice proves untrustworthy. It doesn’t matter. He won’t hear her either way. _They’re trying their best. I’ll visit more often, yeah? Take Brucely around town for a day. Give Iris and Barry a night out. That’d be good, right?_

She taps the metal platform with the tip of her toe; the image flickers. A spark of anger sets fire to her heart and she frowns at the ground again. _This is stupid._

“Come back,” she snaps, mimicking Not-Wally’s serious expression.

“Ask me where I hid the glow sticks,” she demands, tapping the projector again. “I _might_ give you a hint. And remind me to turn on the T.V. timer at night; the electric bill is too high for someone who’s barely ever home. Please, explain to me again why we had to watch Sharknado _three_ _times_.”

She keeps talking, exhuming ancient inside jokes she’d almost forgotten ( _that_ terrifies her), to fill the silence she so desperately wants to avoid. She lists the concerts they went to when they were seventeen and the movies they _“_ saw _”_ at the ever-empty dollar theater when they were eighteen and every other excuse she ever made to her mother (and the team) when she was late because of him.  

The words mean everything and nothing, and they quickly turn from cherished memories to angry accusations. He _left_ her. One second he’d been by her side and the next he was _gone._ How could he have done that to her? What if she could have helped? Why did he have to go running off? Why didn’t he _say anything?_

Artemis yells in frustration as she kicks the hologram projector hard enough to make it fizzle out of existence for a long moment. In the time it takes for the hologram to reappear, she thinks about Mary, and Rudy, and Brucely, and how everything had changed in an instant, and she hadn’t been ready, and they hadn’t been ready, and she’s spent the last few months running from it all when she could have been working on making this goddamn hologram _pointless_.

She can’t keep running away. She has to run _towards_ something. She just needs a little direction.

“Give me a hint,” Artemis begs, her voice filled with resolve. “Where do I start–”

At the tip of her ‘t’, the door to the room slides open.

For a moment, she believes it was just her imagination trying to snap her out of her thousand-yard stare, but the light above the door is visible through the trees, flickering off as it shuts automatically. Someone saw her, _heard_ her, and decided to disappear without a word. She scrambles to get off of the floor, dropping Tigress’ mask in the dirt in her haste. The trees blur and her feet stumble over overgrown roots, but she doesn’t slow down until she reaches the wall.

 _Dick_.

Who else would run from her? Her heart pounds heavy in her ears, louder than the sound her fingers make against the keyboard next to the door. The On-Tower List appears onscreen.

 __ **Monitor** : Martian Manhunter 07  
__**On** - **Duty** : Hawkman 09, Hawkwoman 10, Green Lantern 14, Plastic Man 19, Black Lightning 23  
**On** - **Tower** : Red Tornado 16, Nightwing B01, Aqualad B02, Tigress B07

There’s a part of her that wants to run after him; trap him in a vacant room and tear into him for leaving her on her own for so long, for practically vanishing when she needed him most– when they needed _each other_. Another part wants to stay put and pretend he was never there.

Artemis waits until his name disappears off the screen before she takes a breath, rolls her shoulders back, and returns to the pedestal to retrieve her mask. She takes one last look at the hologram in front of her before she puts on the mask and walks out of the memorial garden far more angry than she’d been when she’d walked into it. That’s fine. It was far easier to be angry than anything else.

Artemis storms through the winding halls of the Watchtower, dead set on finding an open simulation room in which to unleash her fury, but before she can press the elevator button, a hand grabs her clenched fist and pulls her back. On instinct, she swings around with her free fist raised.

“Artemis,” Kaldur says gently, quickly catching her other fist, “I called your name several times.”

“Sorry,” she says, freezing in place as her anger is instantly replaced by an intense desire to implode.

“It’s alright,” Kaldur replies slowly, lowering their hands as his eyes fill with understanding, “Are you–”

“I’m fine,” she interrupts, eyes brimming with tears. “I just– It’s been a long day and I went to see the stupid thing and it’s so late and– oh, fuck, I forgot to feed Lian’s fish! The fucking fish! How could I– How could I forget–”

All at once, the weight of the day comes crashing down on her.  She tries to keep explaining, but all she can manage is a choked whimper. Kaldur quickly and carefully leads her into an empty conference room, knowing damn well she isn’t crying over a fish. 

Once inside, Artemis rips off her mask, tosses it to the far side of the long table in front of her, and braces her hands against the back of a chair. Her head spins as she gasps for air between an onslaught of sudden, guttural sobs. She’d come to the Watchtower to avoid this, but maybe this was what she’d needed the whole time. She’s almost glad Kaldur caught her. Of all her friends, no one  _gets_   _it_ as much as it he does.

Artemis lets Kaldur turn her around and sit her on the tabletop. She doesn’t resist when he wraps her in a tight embrace.

“I know,” he says solemnly, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace.

Artemis only has the strength to hold him back and cry, and they stay this way for a long while. 

In all of that time, Kaldur doesn’t say a word. There had been a time not so long ago when their roles were reversed and the only person to keep from offering well-meaning platitudes he didn’t want to hear was Artemis, and he appreciated that beyond measure. He won’t insult her by trying to throw a veil over her grief. They’ve been through far too much together for that.

He does what he can by being there, and he knows, for now, that is all she needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get on a monthly update schedule, but I have also started grad school, so encouragement would be much appreciated!


End file.
